


Twins

by fringeperson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Old Fic, Petunia's okay, massive wall of text speech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27547924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringeperson/pseuds/fringeperson
Summary: My spin on the Harry Potter has a twin storyline. Only, in this story, people don't seem to realise. Odd that.~Originally posted in '11
Comments: 3
Kudos: 97
Collections: Avidreaders HP completed faves





	1. Chapter 1

It was the most extraordinary thing. Lily Potter had given birth to only one child, and yet, after the encounter with Voldemort, there were two children, identical in every way, who both responded to the same name – Harry. Somehow, rather than being killed, the child had been split into two bodies. It was quite the most remarkable case of magical twins ever seen.

Except that no one would see it for some years, as Dumbledore had ordered for Hagrid to remove little Harry Potter from Godric's Hollow and bring the babe to Privet Drive to be left in the care of his aunt. Hagrid, sensible fellow that he was, wrapped up both of the children in the same blanket – they wailed when he tried to wrap them up separately or leave one behind – and promptly made his way to that particular area of London's outer suburbia.

(Sirius, for those of you wondering, had been keeping company Remus as it was a full moon, and would not learn of the betrayal of Peter Pettigrew until he read of the Potters death in the morning paper.)

Dumbledore, upon being handed the children, seemed to not notice that there were two of them, and Minerva who stood beside him and protested their placement likewise saw only the one child. Further proof for the idea that people will frequently only see what they expect to see. Why, Minerva was calling on Dumbledore to remove a scar from Harry that was not even there. Dumbledore, no more observant than the woman who was his junior by fifty years, argued that he would not even if he could, as he thought scars could some day be useful. He did not say that he could not remove what was not there, as he saw it with the eyes of belief himself.

~oOo~

Petunia Evans stumbled to her front door to retrieve the milk that was delivered in the mornings. She had been Petunia Dursley until a mere week ago. When she miscarried her first pregnancy, now over a year ago, her husband had become violent with her. When his beatings caused her to lose her second child she had divorced him, taking all of his assets and putting him behind bars at the same time. Soon she would be living off the payments that she had received by order of the judge as well as government payments to supplement her living when she began her studies to become a councillor. She never wanted anybody to have to go through what she did, and she knew from experience how grateful she was to have been directed to a councillor. The woman she'd had her first appointment with just yesterday had been wonderful.

Upon opening the door, she found two babes wrapped up together in a blue blanket, a wax-sealed letter set atop them, sitting beside the milk and covered in dew like the grass. Petunia collapsed onto her knees as she stared at these children, then her senses began to kick in and she bundled them up into the house and set to making sure that they were both _alive_ and not made _ill_ from being left on her doorstep for however long they had been there. Eventually assured that the infants were not ill, and relieved because of this, Petunia turned to the letter that had been left with these two identical boys with hauntingly familiar eyes.

"Except that Lily only had one child," she whispered, even as she broke the seal on the letter and turned her attention to the script contained within.

Petunia's whole face became slightly pinched as she read the missive, and she looked over at the two babes again. No. There was no mark on either boy at all, despite what the letter said. It also made no mention of the _other_ child. She was going to have to take them to a hospital and get them registered properly, though she had a feeling that...

~oOo~

"It's uncanny," the nurse said as she stared at the hand- and foot-prints of the two baby boys. "I've never seen anything like it before in my life, and I've printed identical twins before. They have _never_ been _this_ identical. I mean, usually they're at least an inverted version of their twin!"

"They really are identical then," Petunia said as she cradled both children on her lap. "Well, Lily only told me about _Harry_ , so I'll register one of them as Harrison and one as Harold. I'll tell them apart by their clothes and that will be that."

"I have the nasty feeling they'll be terrible pranksters Ms Evans," the nurse said with a commiserating smile.

Petunia chuckled dryly. "That's fine," she said. "As long as they aren't bullies as well."


	2. Chapter 2

“Harry!"

"Coming Aunt Petunia!"

Petunia smiled. Those two boys were really one mind in two bodies. They both answered to the one name and at exactly the same time, in exactly the same voice, with the same tone and inflection. She'd stopped trying to tell the two apart when they were three. They didn't want to be identified as two separate people, and as long as they didn't play any pranks based on getting them confused then Petunia didn't mind.

"Breakfast, get your chores done, and since your new books arrived in the mail yesterday, I want to see you working on them as soon as your chores are done," she instructed the doppelgängers.

"Yes Aunt Petunia," the boys answered, taking their seats at the kitchen table and, in perfect synchronisation, scooping their first mouthful of cereal.

Rather than burden a primary school educator with the two boys, Petunia had decided to home-school them. This suited her as well, since first there was her own study, and then she was mostly working from home as a councillor, sometimes going out to see people in their homes – in which event she hired one of the teenage girls living in the street to watch the boys for her. It also meant that they were beginning high-school material when they were only eight, since they spent most of their days working through the texts that Petunia got through mail-order.

Mornings were house-and-garden chores. When they were done it was study until lunch and then study more until dinner. After dinner was music practice. Petunia would play the piano accompaniment while the boys played the proper duet – and it was always duets – on their violins. She'd picked the instrument for them because it was portable and there was plenty of music to choose from for it. They couldn't exactly take a piano with them to Hogwarts when they eventually went. Not that she'd told them that was why they had been given instruction in that instrument when there had already been the piano in the sitting room.

This was not to say that the boys didn't know about magic. On the contrary, she read them stories of wizards, witches and dragons for bed-time stories, and there had been an incident the time they'd gone to the zoo when she'd watched them have real, proper conversations with every occupant of the reptile house – that had been their sixth birthday treat, and since then she'd let them keep pet lizards in a tank in their room. Once she deemed them old enough, Petunia had also been honest with them about their heritage and their possible fame, showing them the letter that had been left by Dumbledore when she found them on her doorstep.

This way, when the letter for Mr H. Potter arrived at Privet Drive – and there was only one letter – the boys knew something of what to expect when Petunia took them to Charring Cross Road, the Leaky Cauldron, and Diagon Alley – disguised of course. With the possibility of getting mobbed for being who they were, it was only reasonable.

~oOo~

"I haven't touched any of the money that you would have gotten from your parents, so you should have plenty of spending money, and you'll only need one copy of all your books," Petunia said as she led her nephews through the street to the bank.

"Why?" they asked.

"Because only one Harry Potter is expected," she answered. "Therefore, only one of you has to appear in each class," she said with a smirk.

Grins appeared on the two identical faces. They hadn't been given any opportunity before to try the ultimate and most obvious identical-twin gag before, and Aunt Petunia just addressed them by the same name anyway, so it didn't matter to her which was which. This would be their first opportunity to do so, and they'd be fooling an entire faculty with their aunt's approval. They didn't have to worry about convincing anybody that they weren't who they said they were either, as no one would know that there _was_ a twin.

"I'm sure that we'll be able to find a way to smuggle the other one of you off to Hogwarts as well," she said with a fond smile. "I want to hear that Harry Potter is getting the very best grades though, with all the extra time you will have," Petunia added more sternly.

"Yes Aunt Petunia," they promised, still grinning.

At the bank they found that no one had accessed any of the Potter accounts since the death of James and Lily Potter even though someone who was _not_ Petunia or either of the boys held a key to get in. The locks were changed and an appropriate amount of money withdrawn, and then the shopping began.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry smirked as he rested, comfortably, in one of the compartments of the trunk that he, Aunt Petunia, and his brother had bought when they were shopping in Diagon Alley. Absently, he rolled the wand between his fingers as he read through one of the many books they'd bought at that Flourish and Blotts place. Oh yes, he and his brother would share one wand between them. It had stunned the wand maker that they should be so completely compatible with the _same_ wand. Apparently it had never happened before. No other wand would do either; not as well anyway. They _did_ have a second (backup) wand, as the man had insisted that they'd need a wand each for their classes. The second wand was _almost_ identical to the first, though the holly wood may or may not have come from a different tree and the unicorn tail-hair may or may not have come from the same animal, still it was the same length and had been carved in the same way.

His brother who was sitting in the train compartment had the _proper_ wand in a holster at his wrist. Harry had the substitute to fiddle with while he ploughed through all the books that he had picked out to keep him company through the train ride.

Of course, there was also the link he had with his brother that allowed him to hear any and all conversations he participated in without them interrupting his own concentration. Damn useful it was too, now that they weren't going to be in the same room almost all of the time. Having to turn to someone and ask 'who are you?' when the day before they'd made friends (if they had) would have been a baaaaad thing. Just as bad for people who 'he' had decided to dislike one day and then not even recognise the next, though that could potentially just be a very mature cold-shoulder or childish forgetting the annoying people exist thing, thereby annoying _them_ even more.

Shortly after the trunk had been set down and his brother had settled on one of the seats in the compartment, another person had knocked on the door.

"Can I sit with you?" the obviously male person asked. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry snorted in the trunk, picking up his sibling's mental line that he was _perfectly_ aware that the compartment just across the hall was completely empty. Still, better the spy you know, right? Harry felt his brother agree, reluctantly, and communicate that reluctance fairly clearly, even as he allowed the other person to claim one of the empty seats.

Two hours later – with all attempts at conversation made by the boy swiftly halted – Harry was completely through his second book and comparing the notes he'd taken to his old chemistry notes. He would be taking the Potions and Herbology classes while he brother took transfiguration and charms, and they would divide the other classes evenly between them, and was just reaching for the tome on potion ingredients and reactions (his third book of the train ride) when the slamming of the compartment door alerted him to the arrival of someone new in the compartment.

"I heard Harry Potter was on the train," stated another male voice, dripping with ego and over-inflated self-worth from what Harry could hear from inside the trunk. He bet this newcomer was sticking his nose in the air and everything.

~oOo~

"So what?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow at this blonde boy who had just barged in.

"You must be a muggle born to not know who Harry Potter is," the new boy said with a sneer, his nose wrinkling in distaste even as it was thrust further into the air.

"There are probably at least _fifty_ families in the London area alone with the name Potter, and there are at least two boys with the name Harry who live in the same street as myself. I think the old man around the corner is called Harry as well. These are not uncommon names. So, what is so great about a person called Harry Potter?" Harry stated plainly, bored by the childish boy who was the same age as him. His face returning to its previous neutrality as he absently turned the page of his charms text book.

"He defeated You-Know-Who!" the red-haired boy who had already been in the compartment with them practically yelled.

"At fifteen months?" Harry questioned, looking up and arching that brow again, completely sceptical of this claim, especially since it was about him. "A _baby_ defeating the most feared man in all of Wizarding Britain? No, somehow I don't think so. More likely something one of his parents did just before." Harry cast a glance at the blonde who was still standing in the door, staring at him now with a little less arrogance. "And you are?" he asked. "You didn't actually introduce yourself when you barged in. I know this big-mouth is called Ron, and I'm what is technically known as a 'half-blood', my father was a pure-blood and my mother a muggle born, but since they were both killed by the legions of the Dark Prick, I was raised by my muggle aunt."

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"Bond," Harry answered drolly, turning another page rather than taking the offered hand. "James Bond."

Athena, the eagle-owl that Aunt Petunia had bought for carrying mail and their home-schooling books ( _and_ that had promptly made meals of their pet lizards), hooted in amusement from her perch on the back of Harry's seat. She'd only been in the Evans house a week, and she already knew more about muggle popular culture than either of these pure-blooded wizards. Both of them probably bigoted in exactly the same way but with one likely trivial difference that would set them at loggerheads.

~oOo~

Harry opened his bond wide open for his brother to share the experience from where he was currently being unloaded from the train in their trunk, and when, at last, the sorting hat was dropped onto his head, the scrappy looking thing had the nerve to make comment.

"Two of you?"

"Yes, but nobody knows that, we even got only one letter, so we'll thank you to, as it were, _keep it under your hat_ ," Harry hissed quietly back.

"Of course. Complete confidentiality with me. So, with you two sneaking like this, shall I put you in Slytherin?" the hat suggested.

"And be instantly under suspicion as the next dark lord? No, thank you," Harry answered. "Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw we were thinking."

"Hmm. Both perfectly viable options, but your loyalty to each other supercedes your drive for knowledge, and you might get spotted if I sent you to the house where solving puzzles is a hobby. So we'll go with that, shall we?"

"Suits us fine."


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was already snuggled deeply into the bed that he and his brother had been given by those pleasant little house elves when his brother returned from the welcoming feast, an orb of light hovering over his book as he continued to review potion ingredients and reactions. The orb was a handy little spell, just the right amount of light for him to read by, but not to give away his position to anybody else.

"Getting ahead?" Harry whispered as he slid in next to his brother once he'd changed into his pyjamas.

"Oh and you wouldn't in my place," Harry answered with a raised eyebrow. "You made friends?"

Harry nodded. "You ate?"

Harry nodded as well. "There are some very eager-to-please little peons in the castle who clean and work in the kitchens. As soon as they saw me getting out of the trunk and I explained the situation to them, they not only brought me a lavish dinner, they also promised to keep our secret and provide private meals for whichever of us was keeping out of sight."

Harry smiled at his brother. "That's great," he said with a grin. "But put that orb out now will you? I want to sleep."

Harry nodded and closed his book, the light abruptly dying with the motion. "When do we get timetables for classes?"

"At breakfast," Harry answered with a yawn. "We also get tomorrow off to explore the castle and familiarise ourselves with where the classes will be. Except some corridor," he added.

"Mmm, I heard that bit," Harry agreed. "This Dumbledore really is a dork to say that to a school full of curious and possibly rebellious teenagers."

"Well, _we_ won't be investigating it," Harry said firmly. "I want to live to see our grandchildren."

"Agreed."

~oOo~

In the first potions class, Harry collected a few extra ingredients from the cupboard and ground them up finely together while his potion – a boil cure – was simmering. When he had a fine black powder he carefully poured it into an origami box and stuck a fuse in it before putting the whole thing into a tupperware container. It didn't matter that he had the seat right up the front of the class then, because Snape was busily stalking along the back of the room, looking over the shoulders of the more nervous students.

When there was an explosion from back there – and it was a genuine potions foul up – Harry reacted by casting a quick shield spell over himself, his cauldron, and his 'partner' for the project, a Ravenclaw girl named Umi Chang who apparently had an older sister in the same house.

"Wow," the girl commented, wide eyed as she looked around at how far the exploded cauldron contents had reached from the very back of the classroom. "You can drop it Harry," she added. "It didn't actually reach this far."

Harry nodded and dropped the shield, then proceeded to drop in the next ingredient as-per the instructions. When Snape loomed over him moments later and scolded him for not preventing the accident of his house-mate four tables back, deducting house points at the same time, Harry just blinked serenely and made a note of the time, supposed infraction, and witnesses – Umi and Alex Bead (the boy whose cauldron had blown up) in this case. He'd go to his head of house later with a formal complaint about the matter.

Back in the dorms, Harry chuckled sarcastically as he turned the page of his charms text while he munched on a biscuit. He had the after-lunch class, and they'd do the change-over at that time, with Harry claiming a need to fetch his books from his room. They'd figured it all out as soon as they'd seen their timetable.

This also meant that while Harry was in class learning how to wave a stick properly, Harry would have the common room to himself to get the assigned potions homework done. No interruptions.

The year went by in much the same way, and nobody caught on, though once Fred and George Weasley gave Harry an odd look as they were passing him in the hall. Still, an unremarkable first year, apart from one muggleborn girl going home after Halloween because she was attacked by a troll, and the defence teacher disappearing during exams. Oh, and the invisibility cloak that Harry got for Christmas from some anonymous gift-giver, but they weren't interested in using that just now. They had their system. What did they need to be invisible for? Just by being sorted into Hufflepuff they were practically invisible anyway.

~oOo~

Second year was odd. Quite apart from the puffed up popinjay who was masquerading as a competent defence teacher in between smiling stupidly and checking that his hair was still in its no doubt high-maintenance curls, there was the whole issue with pets and people being petrified in the halls.

Both Harry's had been having a quiet minute in the halls when they heard sobbing coming from what turned out to be a flooded bathroom – and for girls at that. Not really any of their business, but never let it be said that Harry Potter wasn't a gentleman. They were _both_ gentlemen after all. Still, one of them went in while the other stood guard of the door. It wouldn't do for anybody to see him actually _in_ a girls loo.

Harry re-emerged with a female ghost at his side and a battered diary held in front of him by a pair of tweezers. Frankly, anything than had been in toilet water _wasn't_ something he wanted to touch.

Harry didn't ask his brother if they were going to their head of house or the professor who was head of what _had_ been Myrtle's house. He'd heard the entire conversation after all. They'd be going to Flitwick. Sprout was a wonderful woman, but her focus was green houses. Flitwick would likely have a better idea of what was going on, and if he didn't, then he'd know which of the other teachers _would_. In the mean time though, Harry had homework to do, so they'd be splitting up.

Learning the spell that Flitwick had used to destroy the diary turned out to be fun too.


	5. Chapter 5

Things got more interesting in third year, when electives were suddenly available. Petunia smiled at her boys when they explained that they intended to take _everything_ available to them, dividing evenly as always of course, and they'd see which courses were too ridiculous to continue with after, and despite that for the past two years Binns had only ever droned about goblin wars in such a way as to put his classmates to sleep, Harry was always busily reading through much more interesting and _reliable_ history texts. The goblin war – singular, as there had only been one – had lasted all of a month.

There was also the interesting issue of the escaped convict (Sirius Black, who had chased after Peter Pettigrew while Remus was recovering from the full moon the night before and had been sent to prison _instantly_ he was captured by the responding Aurors) and dementors at the school, but Harry was much more interested in meeting the new first years and making sure that they weren't too nervous. After all, it wasn't the best environment to be entering just now, was it?

"Hello Harry," greeted one blonde, blue-eyed, and not-exactly-all-there Ravenclaw second year.

"Luna," Harry returned with a smile. "I trust that you are in good health?" He'd met her last year when he'd taken that diary to Flitwick. She'd been crying in his office when Harry knocked, but Myrtle had comforted her a little at the time and Harry had kept an eye on her for the rest of the year, with some help from his potions partner Umi Chang of course. Having a Ravenclaw female keep an eye on another Ravenclaw female was much more successful than a Hufflepuff male trying to do the job.

"Oh yes," she answered. "And yourself? Stubby Boardman isn't scaring you I hope?"

Harry laughed, well aware of the stories being run by _The Quibbler_ , the minor newspaper run by Luna's father. "No," he agreed with a smile. "Did you know that when they threw Sirius Black into Azkaban that it was without a trial? He may actually be an _innocent_ madman."

Luna nodded seriously. "A gross miscarriage of justice conducted by the blithering humdingers that have taken over the Ministry."

"Come on, let's go reassure the firsties that they don't have to fight a troll for their sorting, or anything similar."

Harry and Luna were in a compartment with five first years when the train began to slow, the temperature began to drop, and then all the lights went out.

"Well, that's not normal," Harry said, lighting up his wand.

"No," Luna agreed, following Harry's example.

"Find your wands," Harry instructed all the children, holding his wand high to spread the meagre light as far as it would go. "You'll feel better if you've got your own light I expect."

A quick lesson in the lumos spell and they had a well-lit but still cold compartment. After that, Harry initiated a pile-up to conserve body-heat. He did this by pulling his twin out of his trunk and the large, thick quilt that Aunt Petunia had given them for Christmas the year before.

"Harry, there are two of you," Luna observed.

"Yes," they answered. "But don't tell anybody," they added with a confidential wink. "Even the teachers don't know that we split the classes between us."

The firsties all grinned, massively pleased to be let in on the secret.

"Now all of you scooch up under here. This should keep us warm, and we can tell jokes and funny stories around the wand-light, how does that sound?" the Harrys said together, smiling and each of them tugging another person under the quilt.

Some ten minutes later, a dark creature fled past the door, icing the window behind it before the lights all came on again and the compartment began to warm up once more.

"Into the trunk with me then," one of the Harrys said, taking the quilt back. "I think I'll ask the house elves for a hot chocolate with my dinner tonight. I could really go a nice hot drink."

The firsties and Luna waved him goodbye as he climbed back in and his brother closed the lid once more.

"Everybody alright in here?"

Just in time too it seemed.

"Yes sir," Luna answered. "Harry got a quilt out of his trunk for us."

"And we told jokes!" added a first year.

"I liked the one about the three-legged horse!" quipped a second.

"Nah, Harry's knock-knock joke was best!" said a third.

"And Harry and Luna taught us the lumos spell!" supplied a fourth.

"I see," the man said, smiling at all the still-lit wands. "To put your wands out again you say 'nox' by the way."

"Do you know what happened sir?" Harry asked, helping the smallest of the first-years back onto the seat. "I can still feel a terrible chill in my bones, and I'm quite sure it should be gone by now."  
"Dementors on the train," the man said soberly. "Some chocolate will fix that, but I'm impressed that you managed with just lumos spells and jokes."

"We just had to keep the scared off somehow," Harry said with a weak smile. "I didn't know any spells that would do it, so it was a big blanket and a bunch of jokes."

The man nodded. "Well, as your defence teacher this year, I'll teach you all the theory of the spell that will drive dementors away if you like, for extra credit, since it won't be part of your regular education."

"Yes please!" chorused the firsties.

"That would be nice," Luna said, smiling in her own special way.

"Thank you sir," Harry said. "It only passed our compartment quickly, but that was a terrible feeling while it lasted."

The man nodded. "Well, Mrs Fection – the lady who pushes the sweets trolley – should be along shortly, and I expect you will all be able to buy a chocolate frog from her to help get rid of the last of that chill."

~oOo~

"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, will you come to my office for a moment please?" called McGonagall.

Harry and Luna had gotten into the 'horseless' carriage together with Umi Chang and the bookish Gryffindor from Harry's year: Hermione Granger – the girl _had_ gone home after being attacked by a troll in her first year, but had come back after the Christmas break.

"If either of you were in my house I'd ask you to save me a seat," Harry said with a smile to Umi and Luna, both of who just waved him off and headed in without him.

"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, you have both chosen to participate in _all_ of the available electives that Hogwarts has to offer. It is my duty to attempt to dissuade you from such a heavy work load or provide you with means to attend the classes that will be scheduled to take place at the same time," McGonagall informed them, then gave the two of them a weary look. " _Can_ I dissuade you?" she asked hopefully.

Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads.

McGonagall sighed. "Then you will require these in order to get to all of your classes," she said, bringing out two small, crystal-and-gold hourglasses on fine golden chains.

Harry was tempted to smirk and say he didn't need it, but at the same time... the _possibilities_! Graciously, and with many promises to _not_ abuse such a trust, the students accepted the time turners.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry rolled his eyes at the woman teaching divination in the tower at the same time as he rolled his eyes over what the _pure-blood wizard_ was saying in the muggle studies course. The former had alcohol on her breath and the latter was fifty years out of date. They were _so_ complaining about this to the school board. It had worked last time with Snape's completely unreasonable point deduction. He hadn't tried it again after that first time. Besides, Athena wouldn't mind flying to somewhere else besides Surrey, they were sure. However, first he was going to have to deal with the fact that his muggle studies professor had noticed the eye-roll and was calling him on it.

"Stand up boy and explain your insolence!" the man, one grey-haired Humbert Theophilus Reginald Dolnez. He was eighty years old.

Harry stood, as instructed, and clasped his hands behind his back. "The material you are teaching on the telephone and telephonic communications is a few decades out of date Professor. The 'muggle science' in the assigned text is also missing discoveries made within the last half-century, and barely explains any of the topics it claims to cover."

"Muggles are stupid creatures," the professor sniffed arrogantly. "The muggle studies text only _needs_ to be updated ever hundred years or so."

Harry shook his head. "Let me start where your teaching ends. In the nineteen fifties, the television was invented, a pen was made that meant users didn't have to worry about leaks and splodges, a man found a vaccine for polio. The Russians, then the Americans sent a probe into space, people can travel across continents and oceans in aeroplanes, the world sees the first ever mushroom cloud thanks to the Americans testing their hydrogen bombs, and some guy in a white coat discovered DNA, the building blocks of all living creatures. There is the Korean war and the beginning of the Vietnam war. In the sixties, man walks on the moon, a female contraceptive called only 'the pill' is released, and the first ever heart-transplant is performed. Lasers come out of science fiction and into reality, the first ever computer game is invented, the first home video camera, the ATM, the computer mouse, the beginning of the internet. Martin Luther King Jr gave his famous 'I have a dream' speech, and the next year black and white people are made equal in American legislation. The Berlin Wall is built, and the anti-war and gay-rights movements begin. Feminism sees women burning their underthings in the street. There's Woodstock, psychedelic drugs, the Beatles – that's a band for those who don't know, they made music. Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkle, the Beach Boys, the Seekers, the Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, the Who, John Lennon, who were all in the same profession. We get the cult television show Star Trek and the bikini is seen on beeches for the first time. In the seventies the Vietnam war finally ends, and the Americans go to the moon _again_. The first super-computer is built, so is the first walkman, computer games are available for purchase instead of having to play them in an arcade, and the first letter is sent over the internet. Disco, Star Wars, the Rocky Horror Picture Show, _Doctor Who_. Platform shoes and the mohawk hairstyle are both suddenly very big, and the lava lamp captivates everybody who sees it. Then there's just the last decade. The eighties. Computers are nearly portable thanks to Macintosh. Kids carry a boom-box on one shoulder while their parents panic about AIDS. Madonna and Michael Jackson are the big stars, and Live Aid is the biggest concert ever. We meet E.T., Crocodile Dundee, and ask 'who framed Roger Rabbit?' while falling in love with his wife Jessica. Arnold Schwarzenegger tells us that he'll be back. We play Pac-Man, Tetris, and Super Mario Brothers on the Nintendo, and fiddle with the Rubik's Cube until we can't take it any more. Shoulder pads are big, miniskirts are small, leather is everywhere, aviator glasses are worn even by people who are scared of flying, legwarmers are standard apparel even on a hot day, and that brings us almost up to date. The muggle world changes, updates, and is progressing _all the time_. I haven't even covered half the stuff that has happened since the fifties. Two years ago, muggles _cloned_ a sheep, just because they could. Do you even know what cloning is Professor? A clone is a little bit like an identical twin, only identical twins still have differences between them. A clone doesn't have _any_ differences between itself and the original. Do you get it now?" he asked, nearly red in the face from the rant he'd just given to his professor.

"It seems that some reviews may need to be conducted," Professor Dolnez conceded. "That is all for the day then. Class dismissed. I shall speak to Hogwar'ts Board of Governors about updating the material for the course."

At least his next course, the one teaching about wizarding cultures around the world, hadn't been allowed to become dated like the muggle studies course had.

~oOo~

The first defence class was, to Harry's delight, a good one. After the first two years of truly abysmal teaching and a great deal of private study to keep up with where he _should_ be, Harry was glad to finally say that they had a _proper_ defence teacher at last – and one who knew how to make the lessons fun and interesting as well!

Harry had taken his position at the back of the line to face the boggart in the cupboard. Not because he was afraid as such, but because he kind of needed some thinking time. Professor Lupin had said that the boggart turned into what a person feared _most_. Harry, being a normal-ish young man, had been scared of a number of things growing up: dogs that were loud and three times as large as him, the monster under the bed, being lost in a strange place, the things that went bump in the night... and of course the fear of finding his brother lying in a pool of blood, but that wasn't anything he actively feared or gave much thought to, so it didn't scare him generally, he just knew in an abstract way that if faced with such a scene he almost certainly wouldn't be able to deal. Neither of them would. So, was that his greatest fear or was it something else? Harry didn't know, and his brother down the mind-link was drawing something of a blank as well, unless the boggart would make them very small again and be that towering, terrifying alsatian dog that had scared them when they were four years old and at the park that time.

It didn't.

It was himself, or perhaps his bother, and the boggart-him was raising a wicked looking curved knife high over his head, a malicious grin on his face as he brought it down towards Harry's own chest.

"Riddikulus," Harry said softly, pointing his wand at the boggart.

The knife turned into a flower and was presented gallantly with a cheeky smirk where the malicious grin had been.

"Mr Potter?" Lupin asked curiously as he banished the boggart back into the cupboard.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said.

The extra credit theory lessons on the patronus charm were fun though, especially with Luna around, trying it out, and getting to show everybody what a crumple horned snorkack looked like at last. Cute bugger, if somewhat large.

~oOo~

There was an 'incident' on the grounds with a large black dog, a rat, and that idiot he'd met back on the train his first year, the red-haired one, Ron. Harry, for curiosity's sake, decided to follow them down the tunnel that apparently existed at the base of the whomping willow, simultaneously letting his brother back in the Hufflepuff common room know what he was doing.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was running from the common room to the grounds, intent on catching a rat. He and his brother were happy living with their aunt, but she herself could do with a man about the house, and Sirius, for all that he wasn't looking at all healthy, was as good an option as any that they could think of. Actually, they might have gone for Lupin, but Surrey just wasn't the best environment for a werewolf. Nowhere to hide him from the neighbours. Even if he was on the potion, it was still possible to see through the windows of every house from the ones on either side of it.


	7. Chapter 7

“Harry Potter," Dumbledore read out, a mildly surprised expression on his face as he looked out over the student body, holding the fourth slip of paper to have been ejected from the goblet of fire.

"He's not here," Sprout said softly, though in the stunned silence of the hall from the previous announcement, everybody heard her.

"What?" Dumbledore asked, brows furrowed. "Why not?"  
"He never attends the Halloween feast," the head of Hufflepuff explained. "Never yet has, and though I expect he shall congratulate Cedric when he gets back to the commons, Mr Potter isn't really interested in the Tri-Wizard Tournament enough to join people in their revelry tonight."

"The boy makes a spectacle of himself even in his absence," Snape grumbled, though he couldn't fault the boy's potions work at all, so some of the hate directed at James Potter's spawn had been given the chance to bleed off when faced with Harry Potter himself. Even if he _had_ gone to the board about his point-taking. It had been something his mother would have done, rather than something his father would have.

Sprout stood from her chair with a heavy sigh. "I'll go find him and tell him what's happened," she said. "You have your own duties to the other champions. Dumbledore, may I have that piece of parchment?"

Dumbledore handed over the scrap with Harry Potter written on it, and the herbology professor left to find the absent student.

"This is _most_ irregular Albus," Crouch said unhappily.

~oOo~

"Professor? Is something wrong?" Harry asked, his body blocking the view of his dorm room when he had opened it to knocking. Professor Sprout looked a bit stressed as she stood there.

"Mr Potter, you are aware of the process for entering the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "When the headmaster announced the event I looked up the history and all the rules of the matter. Why?"

Sprout handed over the parchment. "Your name came out of the goblet."

"It's not valid," Harry said as he accepted the slip, before even looking at what was written there.

"Mr Potter?"

"It's not Professor," he assured her. "That isn't my handwriting, just to begin with. I didn't put it in the goblet myself, and it isn't even my full name. It isn't valid. That's in the rules, a precaution against students being entered against their will. The goblet has been known to eject a falsely entered name after pronouncing the three champions in order to warn students that someone has ill intentions or ridiculously high expectations of them."

The woman almost sagged in relief where she stood. "I'm glad to hear that you have been so diligent in your research Mr Potter. Do you have references for this, so that I can present it to the other officials? They're expecting you to participate as a fourth champion right now."

Harry snorted and turned back to his room, grumbling about people not _properly_ familiarising themselves with the rules and natures of tournaments before deciding to hold them, returning to the door a moment later with a large book, held open on one arm while he flipped through the pages with the other.

"I'll come," he said. "This is from the Hogwarts library, and I don't want to risk Madam Pince's wrath by letting it out of my sight."

Sprout nodded and led Harry up to the great hall where all of the students were still sitting, waiting to find out what was going on, why a fourth name had come out of the goblet. Harry followed Sprout up to the elevated front of the hall and proceeded to read the section of the book that was relevant to the situation, which he had already summarised for Sprout at his bedroom door, and including a section that he had skipped over completely.

"The falsely entered shall then be provided with private tutors of the most exemplary level at their discretion and either returned to their home or given secure quarters away from all other persons who may or may not wish to make attempt upon their person. Tutors are to be given supplementary pay by the ministry of the country hosting the Tournament. So reads the book of rules, regulations, clauses and explanations for the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry intoned, closing the covers firmly, the sound echoing around the hall.

"Tutors!" demanded Crouch, just a touch outraged.

"Quarters?" Dumbledore queried nervously.

Harry surveyed the men calmly. "I am permitted to select tutors for all of the subjects that I have elected to study this year from _all_ of the schools who are participating in the Tournament, as well as from outside sources if I do not believe that the teachers offered to me have my best interests – academically and those of my continued health – at heart. When I have returned the book to the library you are free to borrow it and read through it yourselves sirs. Now if you will please excuse me? I left my dinner half-eaten and an essay half-written in my room."

With that, Harry nodded his head politely and left the hall once more, book under one arm and a slightly worried expression on his face. After all, the goblet of fire had just announced that someone wished him enough ill or expected so much of him as to enter him into a potentially life-threatening tournament.

~oOo~

"That could have been us," Harry said after the first task, back in the room he shared with his brother, holding him tightly. "If the idiots in charge had decided we had to be a fourth champion, rather than actually abiding by the proper rules."

Harry nodded in agreement. They were still at Hogwarts, but he wasn't attending classes with the rest of the student population – though Umi, Luna and all his first- and second-year friends came by to visit now and then, the younger ones asking for homework help generally. Hermione came to visit sometimes as well, since after last year when she'd been on the way to burn-out using that time-turner and Harry had taken her aside and told her that she really needed to a) get more sleep and b) eat more food if she was going to practically live every day _twice_ and he was concerned for her health... Well, they'd sort-of become friends.

The professors teaching the Harrys were _mostly_ from the Hogwarts faculty, though divination and muggle studies had both been taken over by teachers that had accompanied the Beauxbaton delegation. Sirius and Remus had been brought in to teach him magical offence (no light and dark distinctions were made) and general defence respectively. A decision made based on the fact that Harry hadn't enjoyed getting yelled at by Moody about constant vigilance for the two months prior to his name coming out of the goblet. Among the Durmstrang delegation had been their own history teacher, who was far more interesting and comprehensive than Binns would ever be. The man taught almost every subject covered by the other professors, just briefly, so that Harry understood the history better.

Of course, none of these people knew that there were two of them. Not really. They just assumed use of the time turner so that Harry was able to be taught by all of them during the week in the times when they themselves were available. Even Sirius didn't know that there were two Harrys. They'd invited him to visit Privet Drive and meet Petunia, but he'd declined, saying he had a house to burn down and rebuild now that he was free. They almost couldn't wait to see his face when he fount out the truth.

At the moment though, both of them were a bit preoccupied with the fact that the first task had been _retrieving a golden egg from a nesting dragon_. It was _madness_! Still, the senior students had all come out of it alright enough, and actually they'd all approached him about that book he'd read on Halloween night, hoping that it might give them better clues about what to expect from the tournament.

The next event promised to be much safer, though only mildly less stressful: the Yule Ball. Harry wondered if they could get out of going, or if they could perhaps find a way to switch during the event so that neither one of them had to go through all of it... and if they should ask Umi or Luna... Oh right, Umi had hooked up with that Boot chap in her house. Harry had worked with him in Herbology once or twice. Luna it was then, and she knew that there were two of them, so switching on her wouldn't be too difficult a problem.

He'd ask her to go with him next time she came to visit him. She stopped by his new quarters every week – skipping her allotted history lesson to sit in on his – so that was practically taken care of all by itself.


	8. Chapter 8

Luna was more than happy to be their date for the Yule ball, and quite willing to go for a little walk with Harry towards the bathrooms half-way through so that Harry could sit down and Harry could take his turn dancing. A little confusing perhaps, but what did that really matter? Mostly she felt sorry that, since they were at Hogwarts and they didn't want lots and lots of people to know that there were two of them, they couldn't all three dance together.

On the evening in question, Harry went to collect Luna from the entrance to her house dormitory. He was promptly wowed by the vision of loveliness that was Miss Lovegood in baby blue dress robes and home-made jewellery – earrings made from keyring chains and a necklace of painted bottle caps and blue beads.

"Some Beauxbaton boy is going to try and steal you away from us during the evening," Harry said, looking his friend up and down even as he offered her his arm. "And if not one of them, then the Durmstrang chaps have all got eyes as well."

Luna laughed and slipped her hand around his elbow, allowing herself to be escorted through the halls and downstairs to where the ball was being held.

"I'll bet a lot of opinions about 'Loony' Lovegood get turned around tonight as well," Harry added in a whisper as they stepped through the doors.

Luna giggled again. "It will just be the nargles," she insisted. "It's all the mistletoe you know Harry. Always infested with nargles and they always make people act in odd ways."

Harry chuckled fondly. He _was_ familiar with Luna's world view after nearly three years of friendship. "Well, we'll keep an eye out for Umi and make sure she and her suitor don't get infected, shall we?" he suggested.

"I don't think Umi would appreciate that," Luna answered with a cheeky smile. "We'll make sure she's shaken them off tomorrow. Nargles _do_ make people silly, but sometimes people enjoy being silly."

Harry nodded in agreement, and swept Luna onto the dance floor. Several other attending males – some Harry's age and some older – had indeed cut in to ask Luna for a dance, and it was during one of these that Harry excused himself to Luna to trade places with his brother.

Harry had to cut in to retrieve Luna from a somewhat amorous Beauxbaton boy. Mention had to be made of cradle-robbing and neglecting his own date before he would allow Harry to take Luna's arm.

"And how is Harry?" Luna asked when she was dancing with him.

"Just fine, a little tired, a little sore of foot, but nothing that won't be fixed by a good night's rest. Yourself?"

"I'm having the time of my life," Luna answered. "I don't think I've ever been so popular."

Harry laughed, glad that his friend was having a good time. "See anybody who would make a good husband for you? Aside from myself of course."

"Oh but you wouldn't Harry," Luna countered with an easy smile. "You're much to busy. Though there was a rather sweet, nervous Gryffindor a while back."

"Neville Longbottom?" Harry queried. "Luna my dear, think for a moment. Could you really handle a name like Luna Longbottom?"

Luna giggled. "Well, maybe not, but that would depend on if Neville thought I could, and if I actually liked him. I only had one dance with him after all, I can hardly know such things immediately."

"What about that Frog I had to peel off of you?"

Luna laughed again. "Maybe," she conceded, "but I don't think Monsieur Philip will be coming back after the things you said to him."

Harry shrugged. "C'est la vie," he teased with a smile.

"Oui," Luna agreed, smiling.

"So... what about one of your Durmstrang suitors?" Harry suggested, nodding over to where one of them was watching them dance, clearly thinking of cutting in again.

Luna shook her head, but she was smiling a more bashful smile and there was a slightly more rosy tint to her cheeks than there had been a moment ago.

"Oh ho!" Harry said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat himself. "I do not believe my eyes, either it's love or the nargles have gotten to you too!"

"Not nargles," Luna protested. "The bottle-cap necklace keeps them away."

"It must be love then," Harry said, still grinning. "Come along and introduce me properly to him then. I'm your first ever date and an older male friend, in absence of your father I'll give him the 'you hurt her and answer to me' speech."

Luna blushed a little brighter, but allowed Harry to halt their dancing, take her arm,and walk her over to the Durmstrang boy.

"Excuse me," Harry said with a smile, "but I'd like to introduce myself, since you've already introduced yourself to my date," he continued, still smiling as he stuck out his hand to shake. "Harry Potter, nice to meet you." This was fine and safe, as they hadn't actually exchanged names when the chap had cut in with the _other_ Harry while he was dancing with Luna.

"Olaf Krum," the boy answered, setting his hand in Harry's and shaking it. "Likewise."

"Not meaning to be rude, but you seem a bit young to have been brought to compete in the Tournament," Harry said, still smiling.

Olaf smiled, a little wanly, back. "Da," he agreed. "I am here for my brother Viktor. Headmaster Kakaroff insisted that he come, and Viktor insisted that he vould not if I did not also. He vants me to broaden my horizons, as you say. See the vorld. Also, he is good older brother," he added, his smile more sure in the face of Harry's own unrelenting one and Luna's shy but interested smile.

"Well I'm glad he brought you," Harry said. "If for no other reason than because of the smile you caused to appear on Miss Lovegood's face."

Luna blushed again and bit her bottom lip for a moment, even as she smiled that shy little smile.

"That one," Harry said, poking Luna's cheek gently, highlighting a dimple with the action.

"It is very pretty smile," Olaf agreed, just a little bit passionately. "You are very fortunate to haff such a girlfriend," he added, his smile diminishing.

Harry shook his head, feigning complete shock "Luna? I didn't know I was your boyfriend! Why didn't you tell me?"

Luna laughed, shaking her head. "Because you're not, you goof."

Harry grinned. "No, I'm not," he said, turning back to Olaf. "Honorary older brother and very good friend, but not boyfriend."

Olaf practically lit up, hope sparkling in his grey eyes.

"And _as_ Luna's honorary older brother, I'm going to tell you that if you hurt her, you _will_ regret it," Harry continued, his tone light and his green gaze completely serious. "Apart from that, I'll back you up when it comes time to talk to her father."

"Harry!" Luna yelped, suddenly mortified.

Harry chuckled and peeled her hand off his elbow, grabbing one of Olaf's and putting them together, patting Luna's hand and kissing her cheek. "Luna, your father is a very unique individual. You told me so yourself, remember?"

Luna sighed, but looked over at Olaf and smiled. "He owns the Quibbler," she explained.

Olaf practically beamed. "That is favourite magazine of both Viktor and myself," he said happily.

"I'll leave you two to get to know each other," Harry said, grinning as he walked off.

Rather than turn in, Harry did as his brother had done all those times when someone had cut in to dance with Luna: he went and socialised with his fellow students. Beauxbaton and Durmstrang as well as Hogwarts. Making friends was an important thing to do in life, especially since he was a Potter, and therefore would some day be in 'magical' Britain's version of the 'muggle' House of Lords. Politics. He didn't much care for it, but that didn't mean he wouldn't do his best to excel at it, just as he strove to do at everything else. Hermione had, sensibly, dropped a couple of courses after using the time turner to get to everything and the stress getting to her, even after he'd helped her with the burn-out. Harry on the other hand, had plans to add more courses once he'd passed his OWLs. He might actually _need_ the time turner then. Might. Still, now was the time for forming innocent alliances with people who would – or even only might – some day be important.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry frowned in the stands as the second task was announced. Fleur, the very pretty Beauxbaton champion, was _not_ going to do well in this task.

In the first task, her dress had caught fire when she walked in front of the dragon she'd lulled to sleep. She hadn't panicked at all, and her rather weak water spell had put out the fire, revealing that underneath she had not been burned at all. There had also been a little bit in the paper after the wand-weighing mentioning that the veela hair in her wand had come from her grandmother.

Veela were affiliated with fire and air. Water didn't get along with either of those elements very well at the best of times, and this was _not_ the best of times, as someone precious to her was tied up _somewhere_ at the bottom of the lake. That would make her panic as well as put her in an element that naturally stifled her even more than it would her competition.

"Any idea who's down there?" Harry asked Umi and Luna who were seated with him.

"Chang," Umi answered flatly. "She's Cedric's girlfriend. _Long_ time girlfriend too."

"Olaf is down there for Viktor," Luna added softly. "We were having a picnic in one of the courtyards when Headmaster Dumbledore and Headmaster Kakaroff came for him, deciding that a brother was better than Hermione, who Viktor had asked to the ball."

Harry chuckled. "Yes, well, Mr Krum doesn't really know Miss Granger that well yet," he pointed out. "What about for the Beauxbaton champion?"

"I think I heard rumours about her little sister," Umi supplied.

Harry's face went completely blank. Very not good. There had better be a contingency plan for if a champion failed to retrieve their hostage, or this stupid tournament would be the beginning of an international incident. He'd had a chance to talk to Fleur at the Yule Ball. Her father was the French equivalent to Madam Bones, Department Head for Magical Law Enforcement in the British Ministry of Magic. You don't go around upsetting those kinds of people, especially if they've got the balls to marry the daughter of a veela on top of being such an important and powerful person in his own right.

Fleur came up after half an hour, crying about grindylows and her sister. Viktor came up with his brother almost exactly on the hour mark. Cedric was up half an hour after that, and then Dumbledore was by the side of the lake with his bum in the air and his face in the water for five minutes before what could only be mermaids brought a little girl up to the surface.

Well, at least they _did_ have a way of getting the un-rescued people up top-side again.

Even better, Dumbledore had looked right daft for a good while to make it happen. Harry grinned, knowing his brother had peeked in on that sight as well. It wasn't that they had anything against Dumbledore, apart from stupidly leaving them on the doorstep in _October_ and even though he'd done exactly that he hadn't seemed to realise that there were two of them. The man may have been great once, but he was a fool these days.

~oOo~

Watching the champions run the maze had been almost as boring as watching the surface of the lake while they'd been under it, and that was saying a lot, because that had been _damn_ boring until Harry had decided to treat it like something he'd really wanted to do, and finding the gentle slap of water against the shore soothing as he thought of other things.

Now, with the maze, some unpleasant looking monsters could just be seen moving about in certain parts, but the champions really couldn't. They weren't supposed to be able to just jump and take a guess at which direction they needed to go, so the walls of the hedge maze were quite high.

Eventually, it was Fleur who appeared outside of the maze with the cup in her hand and a bloody gash on one arm, her blue dress torn, and weeping.

It was in the papers the very next day that Fleur had been forcefully used in a ritual that granted Voldemort a body once more. After she had been an unwilling blood donor, the git had raped her. She would be spending time with medi-witches constantly for the next week to make sure she did not become pregnant and to help heal the psychological damage as well as the physical.

Furthermore, because it had happened to a French citizen on British soil, it couldn't be swept under the rug and ignored, hopefully.


	10. Chapter 10

“Aunt Petunia," Harry said, holding each other's hands as they stood in the kitchen of number four.

"Yes Harry?" she answered. When she looked up and saw their very serious expression she washed her hands of the dinner fixings and sat down at the kitchen table, indicating for them to do likewise.

"Aunt Petunia, we want you to leave England. In fact, all of Great Britain and Europe in general," they said together.

"Why?" Petunia asked, slightly worried. "And where do you want me to go?"

"Antarctica?" offered one of the boys. Luna was escaping to live with Olaf and attend Durmstrang for the rest of her schooling. Not nearly far enough, but a good amount of distance anyway.

" _He_ is back," the other answered meaningfully. They didn't mention that the git had already raped a pretty young girl, Aunt Petunia didn't need to know that. They were just glad to have gotten the news that Fleur wasn't going to have to suffer bearing his child on top of the terrible act. It had been in the papers. There was a letter of thanks from Fleur to all witches and wizards who had been so supportive of her in her distressing times, even as the terror returned to all of them.

"Oh," Petunia said softly. "Well, you've completed your regular high school education, you're out of college too, and university is always optional and can be entered at any time. Trade too if you'd prefer that. Hmm. If I _do_ go, where will you two stay? I get the feeling you aren't leaving."

The boys shook their heads. "We'll move in with Sirius. His house is covered with all sorts of wards that mean people can't see the house, know where it is, or get in even if they get there."

Petunia sighed. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here, where it's dangerous, and running to safety myself," she said. "That's hardly the act of a responsible guardian," she pointed out.

"She who loves, and runs away, lives to love another day," the two Harrys said firmly. "We'll be fine. We had all those tutors last year and we study really hard anyway. No one will be getting the jump on us, we promise."

"You can't know that," Petunia said firmly. "You're only _going to be_ fifteen in a month or so. The mad man you're up against has _decades_ of experience on you!"

The Harrys grinned.

"But we have ingenuity," one said.

"And we know more about non-magical discoveries," the other added.

Petunia looked each identical boy in the eye, then smiled herself, recalling how ignorant James and his friends had been of anything non-magical when Lily had introduced them to her. "Well, when you put it like _that_ ," she allowed with wicked joy. "I'll go pack."

~oOo~

The last three years of their time at Hogwarts was spent aiding and abetting the war effort against Voldemort. The school slowly returned to its previous occupation as fortified castle, giving shelter to those injured in the fighting. Staff and students alike all kept wands handy to defend the school, and the medi-witch had a lessons with every year group from every house one day a week each so that she was not the only person tending to the invalids who came in when there was no longer room in St Mungos, and worse, when St Mungos was destroyed in a raid by the Death Eaters.

"The problem," Harry said as he paced in the room of requirement that a helpful house elf had pointed them to.

"Is that the good guys are too nice to use the spells that would make it an unfair fight in _their_ favour," his brother finished, turning in his own pacing at exactly the same time.

"There are only what? Twenty, thirty Death Eaters in all of the UK? Forty at most," Harry continued.

"And yet they hold a population of almost a thousand in raptures of terror," the other Harry countered. "Always the way," he sighed.

They were seventeen and in their last year at Hogwarts. Their fifth year had been the beginning of the panic, of getting Auror training instead of just defence class and the beginning of the medi-magic classes for all the students rather than just those who had elected to take it. Their sixth had seen that trend continue, but with the addition of basic warding lessons for students who wanted to understand what was being set up around their homes, or so that the muggle-born children could set up their own wards during holidays. In that time, Harry had been staying with Sirius and Remus in the Black Family's old town house during the holidays. They'd also come clean about there being two of them. Sirius and Remus had been dumbstruck for a full minute before breaking down laughing and declaring them the greatest prankster of them all – even if he didn't actively prank like they had in their youth.

But things were finally coming to a head. Animagus scouts and Snape the Spy had reported that Voldemort had intentions of storming Hogwarts castle and taking over. The Ministry wouldn't be responding because, as much as they publicly opposed the big bad Dark Lord, they had long devolved to a puppet ministry, and Voldemort was the puppet-master. Hogwarts was the thing truly standing in the way of his complete domination of Magical Britain.

That, and he still had a personal vendetta against Harry Potter that he wanted to get through. Destroy a few soul-boxes and he gets all huffy and throws a tantrum like a spoiled child. It made the brothers snicker, but at least Aunt Petunia was safe from his posturing. They hated to think what Voldemort would have tried with her if she'd still been in the country. The great git had tried using Sirius as bait for a trap as well, and it was only that Harry had a communication mirror and called Sirius to check that he was safe which had stopped him from immediately running off and tearing the Dark Prick a new one back at the end of his fifth year.

The wards sounded the alarm: invaders at the gates and advancing.

"What we need is a bomb."

"Good thing we've been making gunpowder in potions class since first year then, isn't it?"

The brothers chuckled and ran down to their common room, fetching out the tupperwear container he'd been keeping the little sachets gunpowder in. Originally, they had intended fireworks for their graduation, and so each little paper of powder had a fuse of its own. Now, they emptied all of the sachets into a few hollow metal balls they'd conjured, packing the powder tightly before shoving the fuses in.

Brooms were grabbed and they raced out of the nearest window and around to where the invaders were. Bombs were lit and dropped in rapid succession before the boys went higher on their brooms to escape the blast-radius.

When the smoke cleared, there were a lot of dead bodies lying about. Protegro only protected against spell fire after all, not physical attacks like these. The Harry's descended and sought out Voldemort and his snake, a conjured sword carried by each of them. When they found who and what they were looking for, it was practically a mercy killing, as they were both more than half-dead, yet still suffering slowly in their last moments. The cold bite of steel put an end to the burning pain of shrapnel throughout their bodies and limbs (or in the case of the snake, half its tail) missing.

Their dreadwork done, the boys dropped their swords, no smile to be seen on either of their faces.

"It is finished," they declared softly, mounting their brooms once more and getting away before anybody would see them.

~oOo~

It was two years since they had graduated from Hogwarts, and they now worked part time for Fred and George Weasley in their shop Weasleys Wizard Wheezes – though they were also the main financial backing for the company. It was a four-part ownership, and the red-haired twins had laughed when the two Harrys stood before them, hooting something about a map that was never wrong and that they should have known all along.

When they weren't working in the shop – either serving customers or developing new products for sale – then Harry and Harry worked with displaced children. The kids especially liked playing with the twin supervisors, and the 'magic show' that they would put on for entertainment at the orphanages. They still hadn't told the wizarding population in general that there were two of them, but even as such public figures as the Ministry tried to make them, they felt that it was important to have a few secrets up their sleeves and carry an air of mystery. That they still had the time-turner they'd been given in their third year just meant that they could be having fun at the same time as they had to be at the Ministry doing boring political stuff.


End file.
